Danger

Intro:

It's goona be that it's gonna be that shit

Hook:

Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone (x8)

Verse 1:

Keith Murray is this mic phychosis

I break your best rappers off thousands of pieces

I'm on some other shit splittin' wigs with my penmanship

Kick flows harder then the music so feel in your head and chest

And pass it to the next

They gave me 5 mic checks and all due respect

So please fill it up and check the anitfreeze

Cause this nigga Keith drop mad degrees

I launch tomahawk missles when I talk with permiscuesus

Intelligence like Mr. Romp

From New York unto the world over

I walk MC's like Jesus walked on water

As my airy frequency reigns through the galaxy

I easily gets busy and takes 3

I'm the nicest MC on this side of the pennisula

Stuck in the perimeter like a ninja

Hook

Verse 2:

The Def Squad MC's is shittin' on your new transmitters

Not quiters now forgetters

Runnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what is

My delivers, which is, givin' crews the shivers

I'm like a mad scientist with this son

I concock some shit that'll bust the sun

I got the stunky funky illest funk flow

For the glamorous scandalous world of radio

So how you want? Headcreads or ceelo?

I gets root deep like cavity cretes

Rockin' motherfuckers directly to sleep

A tybarrious rebel without a pause for the cause

And no claws the style is the son of noise

Peace to the hardcore the outlaw raw

Bug youngblood thugs, strong as ? 64 ounce jugs

In the realms of the danger

Hook

Verse 3:

Bust the contrast and how I forecast

Supersonic hyperphonic goin' on that ass paragraph

With the million dollar bionic metaphoric lyrical math

Generating off the chronic

By cooling in the dark path and the drug rath of the ath

And the ill shit that I craft

It's labeled as sick logic to the critics of the didicks

But they don't know the half of the half

The apperatus status of a maddisist

I conqure up a new style puffin' ganja, over the hook

Causin' more trama with my mouth then the stealth bomber

Killing every style in the book

Like it's goin' outta style tomorrow

My style is coming from down south and cross yonder

I drop the dope shit for masses and non-believers

Like spiral passes to butter finger wide recievers

As my photo type sound gays leis and hoes my style probe

To the farthest reaches of the globe

Payin' dues got me cockin' tools, you fuckin' fools

I'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rules

This is danger

Hook